Wounds Beyond the Flesh
by unicorn-skydancer08
Summary: Tumnus has repented of his sins, and Aslan has freely forgiven the faun for all that he has done. Other creatures, however, are not quite as willing to let go of the past.
1. Chapter 1

**WOUNDS BEYOND THE FLESH**

_Yet another brilliant idea for another brilliant Tumnus story! This kinda goes hand-in-hand with my _Tragedy and Triumph_ story. Basically, I wondered to myself what it would be like if there were some who were unable and unwilling to forgive Tumnus for what he's done in his past (back in the days when he was working for the White Witch, and all that), and I decided to try it out. _

_Read and review, please! And when you review, kindly refrain from insulting me, or putting down my work. That has happened to me recently, and I'd just like to point out to you all: if you don't like my stories, you don't have to read them, and you're more than welcome to leave._

_Constructive criticism is fine. Just don't slam me or my stories, okay? Thanks a lot._

_

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Characters (with some exceptions) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media_

_Story © unicorn-skydancer08_

**All rights reserved.**

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Chapter 1**

"Hey, Tumnus, you up for the big dance tonight?" asked Romulus.

"What big dance?" Tumnus looked up from his tea to give his friend a quizzical stare.

The raven-haired faun stared at him like he'd gone stark raving mad. "The First Dance of the Summer, you nitwit!" Romulus said, after a minute or so of stunned silence. "It's the dance held every year in the Western Woods, between the fauns and the dryads. It's the dance to commemorate the end of spring, and the start of summer. Don't you remember?"

"Oh, right," said Tumnus, comprehension dawning on his face. "I'd forgotten all about that."

It was the last day of spring, and Tumnus the faun was perched out on one of the balconies of Castle Cair Paravel with young Queen Lucy the Valiant, enjoying his daily afternoon tea with her. The twosome had been engaged in a light, cheery conversation with one another as they leisurely drank their tea, ate their biscuits and toast, and savored the warm sunlight, when Romulus, Tumnus's old childhood friend, came to them out of the blue to tell Tumnus of the upcoming festivity.

"The First Dance of the Summer?" Lucy was intrigued by the name.

"Oh, yes," Romulus told her. "Everyone will be there, and there will be music and a splendid fire, and we'll dance and sing all night, until the sun comes up. It's going to be brilliant."

He returned his attention to Tumnus. "So, are you coming, mate?"

Tumnus hesitated. "I…I don't know, Romulus."

The faun felt uneasy about revealing his face in public. Here, at Cair Paravel, he could easily blend in with the rest of the crowd; in the woods, everyone would see him, and some would likely recognize him for who he was, and that troubled Tumnus greatly, especially considering his reputation.

Not so very long ago, Tumnus had been an advocate for the White Witch, former sovereign of Narnia, and a vile woman whose wickedness and malevolence knew no bounds.

Although Tumnus had changed his ways, that didn't change the way others thought of him. He knew he was forgiven of his sins—Aslan, the Great Lion and the messiah of Narnia himself, had told him so—but the faun also knew it was not so easy to forget the past. Jadis was gone, but her influence upon the world still lingered. Narnia had yet to fully recover from its wounds inflicted by the Witch's hand.

"Oh, come on, mate," Romulus cajoled. "You know you can't hide yourself from the rest of the world forever. You need to get out of your little shell, and live your life."

That was easy for Romulus to say, Tumnus thought. _He_ hadn't been under Jadis's icy thumb for the past hundred years. _He _wasn't tainted with the memory of the Witch. _He_ wasn't reputed for being a substantial part of the Witch's company. Romulus didn't know, couldn't understand what it was like to look at yourself in a glass every day and remember what you had once been and what you had once done, to stare into another's eyes and wonder what that person might be thinking about you.

"Come on, Mr. Tumnus," Lucy encouraged her friend, "we can all go to the dance together! We'll have lots of fun together!"

Remembering her manners, the young queen turned to Romulus and added modestly, "I mean, if it's all right that I come along."

"Why not? The more, the merrier!"

Lucy then looked expectantly toward Tumnus, and Tumnus sighed, but somehow couldn't bring himself to refuse the girl.

"Oh…all right," he said submissively, as he set his teacup and saucer aside. "If Lucy is in, then I suppose I'm in, too."

"Okay, great!" said Romulus brightly. "Meet me in the main hall at about an hour prior to sunset."

* * *

It was really quite a splendid dance. There was an enormous bonfire, built in the middle of a vast, moonlit clearing, and fauns and dryads of all sizes and colors showed up for the festivities. While a small group stood apart from the rest and played upon flutes, fifes, lyres, tambourines, and special little drums, everyone else pranced and leaped and gamboled about together, around the blazing fire and throughout the entire clearing, with unreserved energy and passion.

Romulus didn't hesitate to join the lot when the music and dancing first began, and it wasn't long before Lucy and even Tumnus caught on to the lively spirit.

"Would you like to dance, Lucy?" Tumnus offered grandly.

She beamed at him, and readily slipped her hand into his. "It'd be a pleasure, Mr. Tumnus!"

And so Tumnus led his little friend out into the crowd, and there they danced together, their feet moving about as if with a mind all their own.

Lucy now understood what Tumnus had meant when he'd once told her that they seldom got tired from these dances. The music, the laughter, the heat of the fire, the crisp chill of the night air, the overall feeling of pure jubilation sent such thrills of adrenaline flowing through Lucy's blood that she felt she could bustle about the entire night without tiring out.

As for Tumnus, he couldn't say he entirely regretted coming to this event. It gave him immense pleasure to be with his friends like this, to let himself loose like this. And no one else appeared to mind his company—and if any of them recognized him, they made no mention of it.

However, Tumnus noticed that one faun in particular appeared to pay especial attention to him.

It wasn't until the music had reached a brief recess, and they'd all settled down for some refreshment, that Tumnus was able to truly get a good look at this faun. He was standing quietly with Lucy, along with a couple of others, and that same faun stood a short distance from them that same time, leaning back against a solitary tree with his arms crossed in front of him. He seemed unable to keep his eye off Tumnus, and Tumnus somehow couldn't bring himself to look away from him, either. He saw that the other faun had a tall, powerful figure, with rock-solid muscles and heavily built legs that looked capable of shattering bones with but a single kick. His fur and hair and goatee were an odd mix of brown and gray, with occasional streaks of black here and there.

His ears were laid back, and there was a rather ill-tempered look in his eye.

He might have been considered exceptionally handsome, were it not for the icy glint in his stare. Just looking at him gave Tumnus a less than pleasant feeling in the pit of his gut.

Tumnus didn't know who this faun was; he never recalled seeing him before in his life. But he knew instinctively that this was no creature to be trifled with, or to be made a fool of. Trying not to let the faun and his apparent hostility trouble him, Tumnus forced himself to turn away, and concentrated on his own affairs as best he could.

Sometime later that same night, Tumnus and Lucy moved away from the rest of the crowd to be alone for a little while. Lucy was quite breathless from the activity, and her face was thoroughly flushed, but she was beaming all over. "This is wonderful, Mr. Tumnus!" she proclaimed to the faun. "I've never had this much fun since—I can't even remember!"

It pleased Tumnus to hear her say that.

"Well, I, for one, am glad _you_ came, Lucy," he said, wrapping his arm around her and giving her a light one-armed hug. "This wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable without you."

"That's funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you."

He grinned down cockily at her. "Great minds think alike, I suppose. Don't you think?"

Lucy grinned back at him. And then, turning her attention to the myriad of stars that glittered and sparkled overhead in the clear indigo sky, the Daughter of Eve whispered in awe, "Ooooh, what a lovely night!" She sighed. "Oh, Mr. Tumnus…how I wish this night would never end, that we can all be together like this forever."

"Forever is a long time, Lucy," Tumnus declared wisely, as he took her gently by the hand.

Lucy gazed up pensively into his face, and began to absently run the fingers of her free hand over his hairy forearm. "In some ways," she told her friend quietly, "not nearly long enough."

"I'm surprised you actually had the nerve to show your face around here tonight," a sudden, unfriendly voice spoke from behind, nearly making Tumnus and Lucy jump out of their skins.

Turning around, Tumnus saw it was the tall, brawny faun who'd spied on him all evening, standing right there.

Up close, Tumnus could make out a long, thin, jagged white scar that streaked from the stranger's left cheek to his top lip, as if someone had sliced his face with a knife. His eyes were as black as coals, and held no sparkle. There was certainly a menacing air about him, and Tumnus couldn't help shifting a step back from his intruder.

"Who are you?" queried Lucy.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect you to know me," the other faun said curtly. His voice was low and harsh—like the harsh grinding of stones. "I am Calimus. My father, Orpheus, was slain at the hands of the White Witch during the Hundred Year Winter."

"Oh, I'm truly sorry," Tumnus apologized, the grim words finding their way to his heart. "My own father perished at the White Witch's hand, as well."

"Yes, I know," the faun named Calimus replied tersely. "Your father unwisely led a revolt against Jadis, and his foolish actions ended up costing him half his army, as well as his life." When Tumnus looked at him in surprise, as did Lucy, Calimus went on, "No need to ask who _you _are. You're Tumnus, son of Anlon. You and your father are not unknown in these lands."

He did not sound remotely pleased about it, and Tumnus turned his face away from the second faun, feeling himself flush self-consciously.

Lucy just stood where she was, looking perplexedly from one faun to the other.

"I must be right in assuming that you were once in the employment of Jadis herself," Calimus told Tumnus at length, speaking the words with what could only be described as venom.

Tumnus felt a sickening stab of guilt at this proclamation. Yet he nodded meekly, and confessed, "Yes, that is true." He started to add, "But, you see, I…"

Calimus cut him off. "Get out of here," he said.

It wasn't a request. It was an order.

"What?" said Lucy bewilderedly. She and Tumnus stared at Calimus incredulously.

"Get out," he repeated. "You are not welcome here. Leave this place now, if you know what's good for you." Taking several forbidding steps closer to Tumnus and towering directly over both him and Lucy, causing them to huddle closer to one another, Calimus went on, "We'll have nothing to do with the likes of you, traitor. Go back to where you came from! _Get out!_"

The intensity of his voice rose significantly with every word, and Lucy shrank further back from him in fear, while Tumnus's blood ran cold.

Right at that moment, Romulus intervened.

"Hey, now, stop that!" the raven-haired faun commanded, grabbing Calimus by his shoulder and roughly hurling him aside. "What do you think you're doing? What is the meaning of this?"

"What is_ he_ doing here?" Calimus demanded, motioning angrily toward Tumnus.

"First of all, 'he' of whom you speak has a name," said Romulus coolly. "His name is Tumnus. If you're going to refer to someone, do it properly. Second of all, he's here for the same reason as the rest of us—for the Dance of the Summer. Is there a problem with that?"

"He is not welcome here!"

Both Tumnus and Lucy flinched at the loudness and the severity of Calimus's words, and Tumnus also felt his heart wrench painfully within him.

"Tumnus has every right to be here as you and I do," Romulus countered. "If you don't like it, you're more than free to turn tail and leave yourself. No one said _you_ had to stick around."

Lucy now smiled up at Romulus, secretly admiring him for his nerve. At the same time, Tumnus felt a deep surge of gratitude toward his mate for defending him like this.

Calimus opened his mouth, as if to make a comeback. But then, as if on second thought, he closed his mouth once more.

He and Romulus stood eye to eye for another minute or so, and at long last Calimus squared his shoulders and grumbled sullenly, "Fine. I'll leave. I have far better things to do with my time than idle about all night in the middle of the woods with a bunch of frivolous fools like you." He shifted his smoldering gaze to Tumnus one last time, and told him, lifting a threatening finger, "Mark my words, Tumnus…one of these days, you will pay." And so saying, he turned his back on them all and flounced off, never once stopping, never once glancing back again.

When he was gone, Romulus turned to his mate, his face now revealing a look of gentle concern. "Are you all right, Tumnus?" he asked mildly.

"Yes, I'm all right," Tumnus answered softly, though still a bit shaken from his encounter.

Romulus looked solicitously toward Lucy. "My Queen, are _you_ all right?"

Lucy nodded and merely mumbled, "Mmm-hmm."

"Don't mind Calimus," Romulus reassured them. "Just because he's one of the bigger and stronger fauns of the wood, he assumes that gives him the right to step over the rest of us."

"You know him?" Lucy questioned.

"To an extent, yes. Our fathers were…somewhat acquainted with one another." Sliding an amiable arm across Tumnus's shoulders, and offering Lucy his free hand, Romulus went on good-naturedly, "Come, now, we came here to have ourselves a grand time, and a grand time is exactly what we shall have. Forget about Calimus, and let us return to the party."

Tumnus willingly accompanied Romulus and Lucy back to the festivities.

But throughout the remainder of the night, he found he couldn't stop thinking about Calimus. Nor could he banish from his mind the other faun's unreceptive eyes, or the grim words the faun had spoken. What did Calimus mean, exactly, by claiming that one day Tumnus would "pay"?

Tumnus didn't know—but what he did know was that when such things were spoken, in such a manner, nothing good could possibly come of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**WOUNDS BEYOND THE FLESH**

_Well, I've finally got the second chapter of this story figured out. It's short, but extremely suspenseful. I made myself tingle just writing this. Feedback is welcome; flames are not! _

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Characters (with some exceptions) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media_

_Story © unicorn-skydancer08_

**All rights reserved.**

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Chapter 2**

"Demitrius, come with me," Calimus commanded a shorter, somewhat lankier faun with unkempt chestnut-red hair and fur, who at that time was engaged with a gaggle of giggling dryads. Without even giving the other faun a chance to say or do anything, Calimus seized him roughly by the neck, and practically dragged him away from the rest of the group.

"Hey!" Demitrius protested, as his companion hauled him into the dark woods. Yet Calimus paid him no heed and only continued to lead him on, as one leading a disobedient mule.

When the two fauns were well a ways off from the carousing, and the music and the mirth had dissolved into the cool night, Demitrius demanded, "Calimus—what is the meaning of this? I was just starting to enjoy myself! Why must we withdraw from the celebration _now?_"

"This is no time for fun and games, Demitrius," said Calimus sternly, relinquishing his iron hold on him at long last. "How can you possibly think of having an enjoyable time tonight? Better yet, who in their sound mind could ever think to dance, and sing, and make merry?"

"What are you talking about, Calimus?" the roan-haired faun queried.

"And you have the face to ask me that, have you not? All innocence, are you not?"

"What do you mean?"

"Or, did you not see him?" Calimus demanded, his eyes narrowing ominously in contempt.

Demitrius stared at him blankly. "See who?"

"Tumnus, that's who!" Calimus spat the name out like it tasted foul.

Now Demitrius's own russet eyes widened with realization. "Tumnus, the faun? Son of Anlon, former leader of the Army of the Lion? The former adherent of Jadis, the White Witch herself?"

"The one and only. I discovered him at the festivities just now, with Queen Lucy the Valiant."

Demitrius hesitated, then dared to ask, "And…you think that simply because he is present this evening, we ourselves ought not to be present?"

To which Calimus shot back heatedly, "And you think that I would taint my honor and my dignity by mingling with someone like that low, despicable, wormlike, traitorous wretch?" The ire and passion within his voice made Demitrius back a step, and though it was quite dark, Demitrius could see his companion's raven eyes blazing like fire. "Have you forgotten what Tumnus did to us?" Calimus demanded sharply. "Where have _you _been for the last hundred years, Demitrius?"

Demitrius faltered for a time before replying timidly, "N-no…no, I haven't forgotten the past years, Calimus. How could I forget that time? How could anyone forget? It is a dark memory that none of us wish to recall. But the nightmare has ended. The Witch has perished; Aslan himself had slain her."

The faun hesitated a moment more before adding on, "And Tumnus did prove himself by saving Queen Lucy from Jadis's clutches, at the risk of his own life."

"One simple act of valor alone is not sufficient to compensate for a life of sin and treachery," Calimus said, bitterness dripping like poison from his words. He spat on the ground. "And today, we see Tumnus gallivanting about from here to there as he pleases—and he resides freely in Cair Paravel, like he's one of the household! I find it quite incredible that our Kings and Queens do not kick him out." He paused. "Or, perhaps the Kings and Queens are not aware of his true past. Perhaps they do not fully comprehend the atrocity of what he's done."

Calimus now stooped down and picked up a large, knotted stick that lay upon the forest floor by his hooves as he went on spitefully, "And how could they? When you truly consider it, they are really nothing more than mere children." He juggled the stick expertly from one hand to the other. "Something must be done about Tumnus, Demitrius. It is high time we took matters into our own hands. Justice will be done…even if we must do it ourselves."

"So, what are we going to do about it?" Demitrius inquired. "What exactly _would_ you have us do with Tumnus?"

Calimus responded to this by throwing his stick onto the ground, and then bringing his hoof down upon it with all his might—thereby shattering the stick entirely into splinters.

Demitrius jumped a mile upon seeing this, upon hearing the sharp, sickening _crack_ of the wood.

"Exactly that," was all Calimus said.

Demitrius felt a less than pleasant shiver crawl down the length of his spine as he grasped the true meaning of Calimus's implication. But he smiled at his comrade, though it was a rather pathetic smile, and declared to the other faun, "Well, I must say, that's what I like about you, Calimus—you prove a very vivid point."

"As is my standard. Now, come. There is a great deal to be done."


End file.
